at them in the dark. You know, with only the light of the aquarium.”
“Do you like goldfish?”
“I guess so. I mean, I never had any.” He turned his eyes back to the tank. “But, yeah, I do like them. I was just watching them sort of cruising around, their fins waving so slow and easy, like they don’t have a thing in the world to worry about. It’s nice.”
Rachel looked at the aquarium. It held nothing exotic, only common fantail goldfish, but she knew exactly what Michael meant. Just watching them made her feel peaceful and relaxed. Or it used to.
“When I’m in bed, I’ll be able to hear the sound of the water bubbling like that. I like it,” Michael said. He chuckled suddenly. “It sure beats a freight train.”
“Freight train?”
“I was thinking about where I used to live. We were pretty close to the railroad, and when I lay in bed at night, I’d hear every train that went by until I finally fell asleep.”
“It must have been…irritating.”
He stared silently as a big spotted fantail made its way slowly across the tank. “You get used to it.”
She felt a tug of emotion, the first that wasn’tresentment or anger or injury, then quickly stifled it. “Do you think you’ll miss Des Moines?”
He shook his head, still watching the fish. “Nah. There’s nothing there for me anymore.”
He stated it without emotion, but for some reason it touched Rachel more than anything he’d revealed yet. Fourteen years, the sum total of his whole life, dismissed almost casually. Hadn’t there been a single special friend? Someone at school? Something at school? Sports? A part-time job? Church? A relative, for heaven’s sake. How could there be nothing a boy would regret leaving? As she pondered it, he hitched at the sagging towel again.
“Are your pajamas in the laundry?”
He glanced down and for the first time seemed aware of his near nudity. “Ah, well…”
Before going outside, she had heard the washing machine and assumed Jake was putting in a load of Michael’s things. Laundry and pajamas and settling a boy into bed were things she handled a lot better than the sort of deep water she might wade into talking about—thinking about!—Michael’s past.
“I’ll just run and get them,” she told him.
“Uh, Miss Rachel—”
“It shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes for them to dry.” Her tone was brisk. Enough of thisboy and his unfortunate upbringing. She didn’t want to think about it anymore tonight.
“Miss Rachel, wait.”
With her hand on the doorknob, she turned. “What is it, Michael?”
“You don’t need to get the laundry. I don’t have any pajamas.”
“What?”
“I don’t have any.”
“At all?”
“No, ma’am.”
She drew in a sharp breath, wanting only to get away, then recalled her original purpose in checking on him. “Jake wondered if you needed anything,” she said without looking at him.
“Oh. I’m fine. Thanks, Miss Rachel.”
“Well, in that case—”
“Ah…”
She closed her eyes then faced him again. “Yes, what is it?”
He set the fish food on the shelf. His gaze, meeting hers, was hesitant. “Is it all right to call you Miss Rachel? I thought about names and all, and Miss Rachel seemed the best thing.”
Rachel stared at him, her heart beating with pain and confusion and a fierce desire to reject Jake’s illegitimate son no matter how appealing he was, no matter how disadvantaged a life he’d had.
“I know it’s kind of hard for you,” he went onin a low tone when she didn’t reply right away. “Me showing up here like this and you not even knowing I was ever born. I mean, it’s different for Jake since he’s my dad and all.” His expression as he met her eyes held regret and apology. Then he straightened up, as though bracing for the worst. “You’re probably real upset.”
“It is difficult,” Rachel murmured, rubbing a temple that suddenly throbbed. For a moment, she and Michael simply looked
“Do you like goldfish?”
“I guess so. I mean, I never had any.” He turned his eyes back to the tank. “But, yeah, I do like them. I was just watching them sort of cruising around, their fins waving so slow and easy, like they don’t have a thing in the world to worry about. It’s nice.”
Rachel looked at the aquarium. It held nothing exotic, only common fantail goldfish, but she knew exactly what Michael meant. Just watching them made her feel peaceful and relaxed. Or it used to.
“When I’m in bed, I’ll be able to hear the sound of the water bubbling like that. I like it,” Michael said. He chuckled suddenly. “It sure beats a freight train.”
“Freight train?”
“I was thinking about where I used to live. We were pretty close to the railroad, and when I lay in bed at night, I’d hear every train that went by until I finally fell asleep.”
“It must have been…irritating.”
He stared silently as a big spotted fantail made its way slowly across the tank. “You get used to it.”
She felt a tug of emotion, the first that wasn’tresentment or anger or injury, then quickly stifled it. “Do you think you’ll miss Des Moines?”
He shook his head, still watching the fish. “Nah. There’s nothing there for me anymore.”
He stated it without emotion, but for some reason it touched Rachel more than anything he’d revealed yet. Fourteen years, the sum total of his whole life, dismissed almost casually. Hadn’t there been a single special friend? Someone at school? Something at school? Sports? A part-time job? Church? A relative, for heaven’s sake. How could there be nothing a boy would regret leaving? As she pondered it, he hitched at the sagging towel again.
“Are your pajamas in the laundry?”
He glanced down and for the first time seemed aware of his near nudity. “Ah, well…”
Before going outside, she had heard the washing machine and assumed Jake was putting in a load of Michael’s things. Laundry and pajamas and settling a boy into bed were things she handled a lot better than the sort of deep water she might wade into talking about—thinking about!—Michael’s past.
“I’ll just run and get them,” she told him.
“Uh, Miss Rachel—”
“It shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes for them to dry.” Her tone was brisk. Enough of thisboy and his unfortunate upbringing. She didn’t want to think about it anymore tonight.
“Miss Rachel, wait.”
With her hand on the doorknob, she turned. “What is it, Michael?”
“You don’t need to get the laundry. I don’t have any pajamas.”
“What?”
“I don’t have any.”
“At all?”
“No, ma’am.”
She drew in a sharp breath, wanting only to get away, then recalled her original purpose in checking on him. “Jake wondered if you needed anything,” she said without looking at him.
“Oh. I’m fine. Thanks, Miss Rachel.”
“Well, in that case—”
“Ah…”
She closed her eyes then faced him again. “Yes, what is it?”
He set the fish food on the shelf. His gaze, meeting hers, was hesitant. “Is it all right to call you Miss Rachel? I thought about names and all, and Miss Rachel seemed the best thing.”
Rachel stared at him, her heart beating with pain and confusion and a fierce desire to reject Jake’s illegitimate son no matter how appealing he was, no matter how disadvantaged a life he’d had.
“I know it’s kind of hard for you,” he went onin a low tone when she didn’t reply right away. “Me showing up here like this and you not even knowing I was ever born. I mean, it’s different for Jake since he’s my dad and all.” His expression as he met her eyes held regret and apology. Then he straightened up, as though bracing for the worst. “You’re probably real upset.”
“It is difficult,” Rachel murmured, rubbing a temple that suddenly throbbed. For a moment, she and Michael simply looked
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